


Suicide

by magneticdice



Series: A Dribble Here, A Drabble There [10]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, tw: Mentions of Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 11:06:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1602935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magneticdice/pseuds/magneticdice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey talks to Ian about suicide; set right after S4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suicide

**Suicide**

“Your sister said you might hurt yourself,” Mickey whispered to Ian. He was sitting on the floor beside the bed, between the redhead and the far wall opposite the door. Ian still hadn’t gotten out of bed, and Mickey was beyond scared. He’d passed scared so many miles ago that he couldn’t even see it in his rearview mirror. No, Mickey wasn’t scared anymore; he was petrified. The thought of losing Ian after everything finally seemed like it was clicking into place was enough to break him.

Ian was awake. His eyes were open, but he never looked at Mickey. He stared past Mickey, at something the brunette couldn’t see nor understand. Ian spent hours staring at nothing. He didn’t move. He didn’t talk. He just lied there. Staring and sleeping and staring again.

Mickey didn’t know how long he sat there, watching his lover. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore, and vaguely remembered thinking about them going numb…

“I thought about it. Three times.”

It was hard to admit, but if there was ever a time to tell Gallagher without worrying about being judged, this was it. The redhead was still, and Mickey wondered if he’d even heard his confession.

“I didn’t want to be… gay.” It was still hard for Mickey to say, despite having come out. “Faggots are disgusting. They’re perverts, AIDS monkeys…”

Mickey cracked his knuckles one by one, relishing the moment of relief that came after each pop. It was an addictive and welcomed distraction, but he soon ran out of knuckles.

“It was the first time I thought about a guy while I was jerking off. It just happened, you know? Some guy I’d seen in one of Mandy’s magazines. It was the hardest I’d ever came, but I didn’t even realize what I was doing until afterwards… and then, I knew. I just knew. And I didn’t want to be a pervert. I didn’t want to be the thing my dad and brothers and, fuck, even me… the thing we hated the most.”

His eyes were watering and he wiped them quickly with the back of his hand. He took a deep breath to steady himself, to ease the pounding in his chest. “That was the first time I thought about it. I still don’t know why I didn’t do it…”

He was an emotional wreck. He didn’t even know if Gallagher was listening, but felt compelled to keep talking.

“The second time was… well, you can probably guess.”

Sometimes Mickey would go a whole day without thinking about how his father forced Svetlana to rape him… If he was drunk enough, he could avoid seeing Ian’s anguished face in his mind whenever he closed his eyes and remembered that horrible morning. Sometimes he’d be with Ian all day and he’d forget that he was married. Sometimes he was able to look at his son _without_ hating him. Sometimes…

“I didn’t do it then, either… probably ‘cuz I thought we’d still be bangin’ after the wedding,” he added with a soft laugh. Yeah, he could laugh about it now. Laughing about it helped him forget that he’d held the gun to his temple for a good ten minutes, hands trembling, until his muscles had just given out…

He’d been pulling at a loose string from the carpet but finally stopped to look at Ian again. “The last time was when you left,” he breathed, “and I was too much of a chicken shit to stop you. You know I couldn’t… I just… I couldn’t. And I fuckin’ hated myself for it. Week after week, you still didn’t come back, and each day I thought about ending it. Couple of pills into the bottle would’a been enough. Everything would have ended. I wouldn’t miss you anymore. It would have stopped…”

He wasn’t even bothering with wiping his eyes now, not that it mattered. Ian wasn’t even seeing him.

“‘Four years, minimum.’ What the fuck could I do? It was too late, and you were gone. So it was either off myself or wait for you… and I decided to wait, because even if it took four years, that little bit of hope that you’d come back was better than nothing, right?” He waited for the answer that never came.

“Right,” he muttered.

Ian had been the reason Mickey didn't do it those last two times. Ian was worth living for, and Mickey selfishly hoped that he could be enough for Ian.

“I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to get better. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m not gonna let them fucking commit you and I’m not gonna give up, so take however fuckin’ long you need. I’m here.”

Ian closed his eyes and turned over in the bed to face the door, pulling the sheets tighter around him.

Mickey sighed.

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh, I don't even know what this is or why I wrote it. Sorry.


End file.
